Hot and Cold
by sweeet-as-honey
Summary: Rita is feeling ill, which threatens to disrupt not only her working life but her evening plans.
1. Chapter 1

_A lovely guest called Matilda W has been reading my story Tissues and Issues and asked if I coud write something similar about Rita and Connie. I was intrigued by the idea and decided to give it a try. Just to warn you: it's more mature than anything else I've written! I hope you enjoy it._

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Rita had found plenty of reasons to curse Caleb Knight over the last year or so.

It was true that he wasn't as terrifying as Connie; as stressed as Zoe; as rude as Dylan; as weird as Ethan or as unempathic as Lily – though he certainly had his moments were stress, rudeness, weirdness and a lack of empathy was concerned – but he did have a significant talent for annoying his colleagues.

One of the main problems was his flirtatiousness. He honestly seemed to believe he had been put on the earth to flirt with every woman in existence and he made sure he made the most of every opportunity, often embarrassing his colleagues but more often than not delighting his female patients.

Another fault was his quickness to jump to conclusions. When his hunches proved to be right, Rita was grateful for his courage (if not his smugness afterwards), but when he was wrong (a situation that was made all the more difficult by his unwillingness to admit to it), the patient was sometimes in a worse mess than when they'd started.

Factor in Cal's unwillingness to listen to anything anyone else said; his insistence on cutting corners and his habit of leaving his personal belongings strewn all over the staff room (Ethan said he was _exactly_ the same at home) and Caleb Knight wasn't really Rita's favourite person at the ED.

But now, Cal really had outdone himself. He'd come rushing into the ED with a stinking cold and without any tissues just because he was terrified something had happened to Ethan. To be fair, Ethan had screamed in the middle of a phone conversation shortly before the phone went dead so his concern was understandable, but as usual, Cal had caused all sorts of trouble.

Rita had been the unlucky person who'd had to look after him. She'd done this willingly enough as Cal was genuinely ill as well as genuinely panicking about his brother. She'd made him tea, given him cuddles, supplied him with tissues and let him lie down in the staff room.

However, three days later, with a sore and tickly throat and the beginnings of a stuffed-up nose, Rita was starting to wish she'd kept well away from Cal. She might have caught her cold from a patient, of course, but after being in such close contact with Cal, she had a very strong feeling that she knew who was to blame.

A cold would have been inconvenient and unwelcome at any time, but Rita was particularly annoyed it was happening just now. They were already short-staffed and the last thing they needed was for Rita to disappear for a few days, but judging by how contagious Cal had proved to be, this was one occasion when soldiering on would not be advisable.

Not forgetting that Rita had plans for tonight. She'd been looking forward to it for a long time (and dreaming of it for even longer), but it seemed unfair and dangerous to risk giving such an important (and gorgeous) member of the medical team such a horrible cold.

Rita was just trying decide what to say in her text to her lover (communications between them at the ED were mostly restricted to secret texts and camouflaging arguments) when the object of her desires appeared.

"Rita, you look very hot," said Connie.

Rita had a quick look around. No-one seemed close enough to have overheard. "Thank you," she whispered.

"In fact, you look as though you should be in bed," said Connie.

"You're always so practical," said Rita approvingly.

"Diagnosing illnesses and deciding on appropriate treatments _is_ my job, Nurse Freeman," said Connie.

It should have been Sister Freeman really, but Connie always said that made her feel incestuous and she was quite naughty enough already without adding that to the equation.

"So perhaps you could come with me," said Connie. She led Rita to an empty cubicle and drew the curtains. "That's better. Much more private. On the bed, Nurse Freeman."

"Yes, Mrs Beauchamp," said Rita pleasantly. She lay down on the bed.

"I'd like to examine you," said Connie. She took Rita's hand in hers. "Now, who's been giving you sweaty palms, Nurse Freeman?"

"I have been standing next to someone hot," said Rita.

Connie's skilful surgeon's fingers slid across Rita's palm finally coming to rest on her pulse point. "Your pulse rate is up, Nurse Freeman. Do you have any idea why that might be?"

"I suppose I must be a bit excited," said Rita. "I wonder what could have caused that."

"I have one or two ideas," said Connie. "Would you mind if I listen to your chest?"

"I prefer it when you talk to my chest," said Rita honestly.

"And I love it when your chest answers," said Connie. "It really does answer all my prayers, Rita." She unhooked her stethoscope from around her neck and moved it around Rita's chest. For such an experienced doctor, it took quite a long time for her to find Rita's heartbeat. Connie rested her palm flat on the chest piece, letting her fingers splay over the edge onto Rita's breast. "Oh yes. There it is. It sounds very regular to me, Nurse Freeman. It doesn't seem to have skipped a beat once."

"I'm quite surprised to hear that, actually, Mrs Beauchamp," said Rita.

"Oh, I'm sure we could do something about that." Connie smiled in a predatory fashion and removed the stethoscope. "There is clearly nothing wrong with your level of response, but I must check your airway and breathing."

Connie's words recalled Rita to her present situation. "Sorry, Connie. I don't think you should."

Connie's head went back in surprise. Slowly, she drew herself up to her full height. "Excuse me, Nurse Freeman?"

"I think I've caught Cal's cold," said Rita, feeling more annoyed than ever with the unfortunate registrar. "I don't want you to catch it, Connie. So you really shouldn't examine me now and I'm very sorry, but I think we should probably cancel tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry about the misspelling in the title. I cringed when I saw it! Of course it's Hot and Cold, not Hot and Cod. There's nothing fishy about my stories, I hope._

 **LittleBritishPerson** , thank you for reading the first chapter - the first Connie/Rita story I read was a bit of a surprise too! It's really lovely you decided to read it when it's not something you'd usually read. Thank you for your review!

 **Tato Potato** , thank you for your review. I'm really happy you like the start - I hope you'll like the rest too!

 **Matilda W** , I'm really happy you found the story and even happier that you enjoyed it. Thank you for your review. Here's Chapter 2 and it shouldn't be quite such a long wait for Chapter 3. There will probably be four chapters.

 **LittleBooLost** , thank you for your review. I'm happy you like the flirtation and it's great to have another new reader.

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"Cancel?" Connie's voice was quiet but it contained steel.

"I don't want you to get ill too," said Rita. "I don't know what we'd do. We already know Zoe and Dylan can't do your job and Cal and Ethan aren't well so who is going to do it? Lily?"

A grimace of distaste passed across Connie's face. Rita assumed it was the idea of Lily as clinical lead, but she soon found out otherwise. "So that's your only concern, Rita. The department. You would have no personal regrets if you gave Dr Knight's cold to me."

"You know I would," said Rita gently. "Sorry, Connie. I've got a bit of a headache and I've got the hottest woman in the universe standing over me. So I'm probably not thinking very clearly."

Connie's regal expression didn't falter. She walked away from the bed and drew the curtains. "Go home and go to bed, Sister Freeman."

"I don't suppose you have any plans to join me later?" asked Rita. It would have to be from a distance of course and not for very long, but that was better than not seeing Connie at all.

Connie didn't answer. She merely stood waiting, her face expressionless. Her weight rested slightly on her right leg and the left one was slightly bent. She was wearing a skirt today (Rita wished she would do that more often) and it fell to her knee. As Rita watched, she slowly and elegantly turned her back on Rita and started to walk away, her skirt swishing around her legs.

Rita sighed. She felt as though she would never move again; weighed down by disappointment and illness. She sat up and felt her chest lift as she began to cough.

The effect was like magic. Connie stopped mid-step and spun round. Rita's head was bent, but she could hear her heels clacking speedily across the white floor.

"Rita, are you all right?" said Connie anxiously. She put her arm around Rita and supported her. "It's all right, darling. It's all right."

Rita finished coughing and got out a tissue to wipe her nose. "Sorry. I'm not very delectable today."

"I am clinical lead, Nurse Freeman – so I'll be the judge of that," said Connie. She pressed her cheek against Rita's and whispered: "You'll always be delectable to me."

Rita felt her heart rate speed up, not just at Connie's nearness but the fact the curtain was wide open and anyone might see them. She wasn't scared so much as turned on.

"But I still think you should go home," said Connie with a note of regret in her voice. "You'll make yourself worse if you stay and work and although it would obviously Caleb's fault, not yours, I don't want an epidemic on my hands."

"What would you like on your hands?" asked Rita softly.

Connie let her finger brush Rita's lips. "I would like these on my hands." Her hand glided over Rita's chin, down her neck and towards her breasts. "I wouldn't mind these on my hands as well… or rather in them,"

Rita could see quite a long way when the curtains weren't drawn. As she looked out into the ED, she found herself in the most unusual position of staring at Charlie and feeling completely turned on. He wasn't looking their way, but he could do at any moment.

He could catch them at any moment and uncover one of the very few secrets he didn't know.

"Wait here, Nurse Freeman. I'll phone for a taxi for you," said Connie. She had a quick glance at Charlie and bent to kiss Rita's forehead. "I'll see you later, darling."

"Is that a good idea?" said Rita.

"No, not at all – but remember, Nurse Freeman, you should never question your clinical lead."

Rita had another look at Charlie and moved her hand so it rested on Connie's hip. "Technically speaking…"

"…I'm not _your_ clinical lead," said Connie. "But I do have my doubts about that. I am a clinical lead and I'm yours, so you can hardly say I'm not your clinical lead."

"True," said Rita with a sniff.

Connie kissed her again. "I'll see you soon, darling. Take care of yourself for me."

"Yes, Mrs Beauchamp," said Rita.

She smiled as she watched Connie go, but as soon as the clinical lead was out of sight, Rita became aware of how ill she felt and was glad Connie was sending her home. She sneezed loudly and lay down again, her head throbbing. Rita closed her eyes. No, she definitely wasn't pleased with Caleb Knight today. Not at all.

"Rita, are you all right?" asked a voice.

Rita opened her eyes reluctantly. "Hi Charlie. No, I'm not all right really. Blame Cal. That's what I'm doing."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" said Charlie. "You do look a bit flushed, though I think Connie has that effect on a lot of people."

"Excuse me?" said Rita huskily. Charlie couldn't know about her and Connie, could he? No-one was supposed to know about that! Connie had said so. It was their own (very) delicious little secret.

"Connie is very good at making people feel embarrassed," said Charlie. "That's all I mean."

He smiled. There was nothing in his smile to suggest he might mean something else, but Rita was reminded that there was very little Charlie didn't know about.

"So is there anything I can do for you?" asked Charlie. "Or is Connie seeing to your needs?"

"Yes, Connie's seeing to me," mumbled Rita. "I mean, she's going to arrange for a taxi to take me home."

"Then I'll leave you in her capable hands," said Charlie.

Rita watched him go, wishing she was in Connie's capable hands right now. She closed her eyes and imagined Connie driving. Connie was usually very good at keeping her hands on the wheel, but Rita was allowed to put her hands wherever she wanted and Connie usually complained if she didn't.

"How am I supposed to concentrate on driving if I'm all turned on and I don't have a nurse to relieve the symptoms?" she'd asked Rita once.

Then, once they got home, Connie would take Rita straight to the bedroom and undress her slowly. Almost every piece of flesh she expose would receive a kiss or caress or some delicious treatment along those lines. Then Connie would help her into bed (because Rita would be in no condition to do it herself) and straddle her and the kissing and loving would begin all over again, raising her pulse rate to tachycardia and her blood pressure to hypertension, as well as provoking severe dyspnea.

After that, when they'd both recovered, they'd get to do it all over again, only their roles would be reversed.

But it wouldn't happen tonight, thought Rita with a sigh that started another coughing fit. Even if Connie did come to see her, she wouldn't be able to touch her. Rita couldn't let it happen. She couldn't take any risks with the woman she loved. Besides, the department couldn't function without Connie. Everyone knew that.

And just the thought of Connie feeling as Rita was right now, unable to breathe through her nose, a persistent throbbing in her head and a burning sensation in the back of her throat, gave Rita an almost physical ache which was worse than all the rest of her problems put together.

Rita didn't want Connie to suffer. And if that meant that Rita suffered more, there was nothing she could do about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Tanith Panic** , I'm just happy you found it at all! I love a bit of Freechamp too. It does get a little but smutty in this chapter, but I hope not too much! Thank you for both your reviews.

 **Tato Potato** , thank you for your review. I'm really happy you like it so far. Rita is a woman so she might not be quite such a baby as Cal, so she might recover more quickly!

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Rita had hoped she would feel better once she was in bed, but the longer the day went on, the worse she felt. Her headache was worse and she really needed a painkiller, but she couldn't quite bring herself to stand up and walk all the way to the kitchen. If she'd been thinking clearly, she'd have brought everything she thought she might need into the bedroom, but she was finding thinking extremely difficult at the moment. Her head felt completely stuffed up: all she was really capable of thinking about was a) how ill she felt and b) how hot Connie looked today.

She just wished Connie was here now. She was sure Connie would distract her from how awful she was feeling.

But at the same time, Rita didn't want Connie to be here. She didn't want Connie to see her like this. Partly because Rita was feeling extremely unattractive; partly because she knew that seeing her with a cold would be as distressing for Connie as seeing any other patient dead; and partly because she didn't want Connie to catch it.

Rita closed her eyes. Once some of the brightness was shut out, the throbbing in her head did ease slightly, but then she started sneezing and had to open her eyes to find her tissues. As soon as she'd finally got her nose under control, the coughs started again, racking her whole body, the force of them almost throwing her into a sitting position. Once the coughing was over, she needed to blow her nose again and once that was done, she became aware again of just how sore her throat was. She felt like someone had been messing around in there with a scalpel.

How Cal had managed to get himself out of bed and all the way to hospital to see Ethan was a mystery.

But then Rita imagined how she would have felt if a phone conversation with Connie had ended with a scream and she knew she would go a lot further than the hospital if she was worried about Connie.

Rita closed her eyes again and tried to sleep. She thought it was going to be impossible, but then she suddenly found herself opening her eyes with the impression that time had passed. She also felt as though something had woken her up, but she wasn't sure what. She tried to lift her head, but this was painful and took more energy than she possessed so she let it fall back onto the pillow again.

No, there it was again. A strange sound; a sound Rita couldn't identify. A sort of tapping. Very faint, but definitely there. Perhaps it was a bird or something tapping on a window.

The tapping stopped and Rita heard a click. She didn't think she'd ever heard a click exactly like it, but there was something familiar about it all the same.

The next sound she definitely recognised. The front door closing. And that could only mean one thing.

Someone was in her flat and they hadn't used a key to get in.

Rita froze in her bed. She wanted to get out and find something heavy, just in case the intruder came into her bedroom, but she didn't think she was strong enough and she didn't want to make any kind of noise that could betray her presence.

She felt a sneeze coming and pressed a tissue desperately to her mouth and nose. She couldn't sneeze now. She couldn't. But it burst out of her with a force and sound that frightened even her, and then she heard the footsteps: the hurried footsteps of someone wearing high-heeled shoes and then Rita knew who it was; knew even before the door burst open and Connie came in.

"Rita darling, are you all right?" Connie hurried anxiously to her side. "You're shaking. Did I frighten you? I'm sorry."

"No, of course you didn't frighten me, sweetheart," said Rita. "I just had a nightmare."

"A knightmare? About Cal?" Connie looked sympathetic. "I had one of those once. It was terrible. He was wearing your uniform and a blonde wig, but then he took his clothes off and… no, let's not go into that. It's not something I want to think about and I really don't think you're strong enough."

"What are you doing here?" said Rita, staring up at her beautiful girlfriend and wondering if she was still dreaming. "And what are you wearing?"

"Do you like it?" Connie smiled and stepped back so Rita could get the full effect. "I thought you might like a nurse to look after you. After all, it's usually nurses that people fantasise about."

"I usually fantasise about clinical leads," said Rita. "Though not when Zoe had the job of course."

"Or when Dylan temporarily had the job, I would hope."

Rita had to laugh at the idea of finding Dylan attractive. "What would I want with him? He's a man!" Rita smiled as she looked Connie up and down again.

Connie was wearing a very short, pale blue dress with a white collar and a plunging neckline, which Rita examined in detail. She smiled even more as Connie turned her torso this way and that: it was clear to her that Connie was definitely not wearing a bra. The dress looked like it was just about long enough to cover her bottom and Rita caught her breath (and then coughed a bit) as her gaze travelled down Connie's thighs to her calves. On her feet were very high-heeled black shoes and on her head was a small, white nurse's cap.

"Where did you get it?" said Rita, awed.

"EBay," said Connie. "There wasn't anything decent in the hospital. I looked. All trousers. Not that you don't look enticing in yours, but don't you just yearn to see a bit of leg sometimes?" As she spoke, Connie lifted one of her legs, bending the knee and pointing the toe.

Rita sat up slightly to get e better view. She felt slightly dizzy, but she often did when she looked at Connie. "I'm always a bit disappointed when you wear trousers, though I probably get more work done on those days." She smiled at Connie, who immediately smiled back, letting her tongue sneak out to wet her lips, but then Rita was seized with a coughing fit and Connie rushed to her side, concerned.

"It's all right, Rita. It's all right, darling. I'm here and I've brought lots of things to make you feel better."

"Did you bring the double digger?" asked Rita between coughs.

Connie shook her head. "Oh no. I don't think you're well enough for that."

"How about the crystal jellies?"

"I'm not even sure if you could cope with those at the moment. I didn't bring the pump either." Connie kissed her forehead. "But don't worry. I didn't come empty-handed."

"That doesn't surprise me," said Rita. "As far as I can remember, you always have your hands full when you come."

Connie kissed her cheek. "Now, Rita, that's very naughty. You mustn't let yourself get overexcited."

"Maybe you should go home then," said Rita cheekily.

Connie looked severe. "I can see you need a firm hand. Luckily, I have two."

Rita shivered in anticipation, only for Connie to start fussing.

"You're cold, Rita. You should have told me you were cold. Let me tuck you in properly. I don't want to see any exposed skin apart from your face – no, that's a lie, but your health comes first."

Rita blew her nose. "I don't suppose I'm very sexy at the moment anyway."

"I wouldn't say that," said Connie. "There's something about you lying helpless in that bed that makes me want to do all kinds of things to you."

Rita licked her lips. "Like what?" she asked.

Connie bent over and picked up her bag from the floor, allowing Rita to enjoy the view as her dress rode right up to display taut, bare buttocks.

Rita started wheezing. "Oh my good God. I think my heart's stopped. I need the defibrillator, please, and lots of mouth-to-mouth."

"Just be a little patient, Rita…"

"I'm definitely a patient, but I wouldn't say I'm _very_ little," said Rita.

"Of course not. You're exactly the right size in all the right places. And I spend a lot of time looking at bodies so if anyone knows what perfection is, it's me."


End file.
